


sky go white like a revelation

by BoyishStutter



Category: Naruto
Genre: Bodyguard, Light Angst, M/M, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-11-08 04:37:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17974628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoyishStutter/pseuds/BoyishStutter
Summary: “We have a matter of utmost urgency to discuss. The Shodaime has been taken.”When Hashirama goes missing Tobirama is forced to pose as him at the Five Kage Conference, with Madara as his bodyguard. They have to work together to maintain the ruse while solving the mystery of Hashirama's disappearance. What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

_“I always hoped it would never come to this.”  
_

_“Huh. That’s interesting, I always knew it would.”_

* * *

 

There wasn’t much that could threaten Hashirama. Sure, the guy was a walking exposed nerve - more sensitive spots and insecurities than anyone would assume a grown man to have - but, that didn’t make him any less of a formidable shinobi. It might leave him open to attack from those he cared about most, those who knew him the best, but it definitely didn’t leave him vulnerable to strangers.

Hashirama was nearly untouchable, which was why Tobirama wasn’t prepared for this situation at all.

It was already four in the morning when he was summoned urgently to the Hokage office. He assumed Hashirama had finally started reading the diplomatic missive from Sunagakure and was ready to whine about how unfair it was that they weren’t hosting the upcoming Five Kage Conference (a fact that Tobirama had already informed him of, roughly a half dozen times).

He certainly didn’t expect to be greeted by Madara, Touka, and a full ANBU unit. He glanced at the other two for any sort of clue as to why they’d all been gathered. Madara resolutely ignored him, typical, and Touka simply shrugged, chewing on her bottom lip.

The ANBU captain stepped forward. He hadn’t removed his mask, marked with feline features, but Tobirama thought his chakra signature was familiar. Yamamoto, perhaps? He idly considered it as the man fidgeted before them.

“Thank you all for arriving so quickly,” he began, “We have a matter of utmost urgency to discuss. The Shodaime has been taken.”

That’s when everything went to shit.

* * *

 

Tobirama was in shock, it was pure instinct that had him stepping between Madara and the cowering ANBU captain. He’d feel embarrassed or annoyed that a highly specialized, classified unit quailed under the weight of one man’s rage - but he knew better than anyone the power behind the Sharingan. He knew better than anyone how Madara utilized the Sharingan.

“Enough.”

“ _Enough_?” Tobirama kept his gaze carefully fixed on Madara’s jaw, avoiding eye contact, while the man snarled viciously, “Your brother has been taken from his own home in the middle of the night, and you say enough?”

He stood firm, “What use is it to blame these men?”

Madara’s jaw was tense, “They should have done something. That’s why we created the ANBU. They’re supposed to be the best, that’s why they’re assigned to Hashirama’s guard.”

Tobirama rolled his eyes, almost getting caught in the flash of red. He was out of practice.

“You know, as well as I do, that these men are no match for Hashirama. Not even in their wildest dreams,” Well, he thought, there was no way to sugarcoat it. He hoped they didn’t take it too personally, they were decent shinobi after all. But, the facts were facts. As much as they wanted to encourage and develop talent in the village, it was no use pretending that anyone was on par with the so-called ‘God of Shinobi.’

“As for the best?” Tobirama’s hand clenched, the truth of the matter a bitter pill to swallow, “ _We’re_  the best. After Hashirama? It’s always been us. If anyone should have prevented this from happening, that’d be us. Don’t you dare look down on them because you can’t face your own guilt.”

He didn’t look behind him, not wanting to see the judgment or worse, gratefulness, from the ANBU guards.

“Fuck you,” Madara spat.

He opened his mouth, ready to fight back, but Touka interrupted, “If you’re done behaving like children, maybe we can discuss our next steps?”

In the chaotic minutes following the ANBU captain’s announcement Touka had moved to sit in Hashirama’s chair. From behind the desk, with her fingers steepled under her chin, the statement was all the more authoritative, “You know, like the leaders the people of Konoha expect us to be?”

Tobirama directed his gaze to the floor, properly shamed. His cousin was right, this was not the time to apportion blame or focus on their feelings of guilt. The initial twenty-four hours were always critical to handling a crisis. But, how could they chase after a ghost? There had been no sign of a struggle and only the lack of chakra signature alerted the ANBU to Hashirama’s disappearance.

Madara, however, was not so easily cowed, “Don’t speak to me like I’m one of your little underlings,” he hissed, “Tobirama might let you get away with that, but I sure as hell won’t.”

Touka raised an eyebrow at his outburst, lifting her chin minutely. She didn’t bother looking away from the spin of his Sharingan. Tobirama wasn’t sure if she was stupid or brave, or both.

Despite his misgivings, he could feel the hesitation radiating from the Madara. That’s when he realized that before being stupid or brave, Touka was ultimately strategic. She’d laid down the gauntlet, daring Madara to use his visual prowess against a comrade and betray everything Hashirama had built in their village.

It was a gamble that Tobirama didn’t know he’d ever be able to make, but Hashirama would have been proud. He always said that you never knew what someone was capable of until they were tested; you had to give them the opportunity to do the right thing. 

Tobirama was never good at having that sort of faith, so his respect for Touka increased tenfold. She’d kept her head in a crisis and forced the great Uchiha Madara to blink first. As he looked at her behind the desk, it was all too easy for Tobirama to imagine her under the hat. She’d have his vote whenever Hashirama decided to step down. Of course, that was if…

Tobirama stopped that train of thought in its tracks. It didn’t help to think of worst-case scenarios. They would get Hashirama back and there would be plenty of time to argue about his successor.

Touka smiled, a grin too sweet to be trusted, and tilted her head to get a clear view of the ANBU unit still half-prone behind the other two men, “You may go. We have a lot to discuss.”

* * *

 

Touka sipped from her fresh cup of tea, watching Tobirama’s face shift through varying shades of red.

“You can’t be serious,” he said, finally, with a shake of his head, “That cannot be your suggestion. That’s… That’s…”

“Moronic,” Madara supplied.

Well, it was much ruder than how Tobirama would have put it, but he still felt inclined to agree. It was a truly awful plan.

Touka sighed, as though she were dealing with two particularly stubborn, small children rather than fully grown, deadly shinobi, “We can’t let Hashirama’s disappearance be known publicly. It would cause a panic. He’s the God of Shinobi, for fuck’s sake.”

It showed how dire the circumstances were that neither man rolled their eyes or offered a snide comment in the face of Hashirama’s well-known nickname.

“I agree, of course,” Tobirama said, “We don’t want to alarm the citizens. But, that doesn’t mean that I should take his place at the Five Kage Conference. And, it also most definitely does not mean that  _I should pretend to be him at that conference._ ”

She narrowed her eyes, patience clearly running out, “If Hashirama doesn’t show, then rumors will begin to fly. He inspired the village system and by not arriving at the conference everyone will start to assume the worst. What illness could keep a man so great from attending the jewel of inter-village cooperation? Perhaps his skill is simply legend?”

“Or,” Touka let out a fake gasp, clutching her chest, “Maybe something even more dreadful has happened to him!”

Tobirama shifted, uncomfortable. Touka raised valid points, but it was still difficult to imagine pulling off something so elaborate. He was used to straightforward battle, this new world of political navigating was beyond his depth.

“It would put the Hidden Leaf in a vulnerable position. If any of the other nations got the notion that we were undefended…”

Madara scoffed, “We wouldn’t be undefended.”

“No, but there’s no invasion that doesn’t take casualties,” Touka replied, coldly, “And while I have every faith in our defensive capabilities, even without Hashirama, it is our duty to avoid conflict whenever possible.”

Touka took another sip of her tea, “Besides, you’re missing the other point.”

“And what’s that?”

She gave Madara a pitying look, the one that said she was sorry that he was born with such a tiny brain but she supposed she could be gracious enough to fill him in this one time, “Only a kage-level shinobi would be able to go head-to-head with Hashirama and what better way to investigate kage-level shinobi than at the conference where they’ve all conveniently gathered?”

Well, that was...a very good point that Tobirama had most certainly not thought about. He glanced at Madara, under any other circumstances that sour, pinched expression would have been funny. It seemed that Madara hadn’t thought about it either. Touka was definitely getting his Hokage nomination.

She smiled, satisfied that their silence was a grudging acceptance, “The good news is, most people haven’t actually  _met_  Hashirama. You won’t even have to use a transformation jutsu.”

Tobirama winced, imagining himself in Hashirama’s body. It was too odd for him to truly picture. His brother was always too loud and too excited and larger than life, it would be hard enough to fill his name let alone his person, “That’s...good.”

“Madara, you can accompany him as his second and bodyguard. Your visual prowess is unparalleled and you’ll be able to discern easily if there’s any deception from the other kage.”

Madara nodded, “Understood.”

Touka looked between them, a slight smile forming on her lips, “Good. Don’t you love it when a plan comes together?”

They frowned as she smirked behind her tea cup. Tobirama felt she was a little too smug for the situation but he let it slide; everyone had to have their faults, he supposed.

* * *

 

“Madara,” Touka called, stopping him from following Tobirama out the door, “A minute?”

He turned to face her, arms crossed. If she wanted an apology for his comments earlier then she was truly out her damn mind.

“Please,” she began, eyes sliding to the side like it was uncomfortable for her to ask him this favor, “Keep an eye on Tobirama. All of this is harder for him than he’ll admit.”

Madara snorted, speaking before Toka could express her offense at the reaction, “You think after all this time I don’t know that?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. There was no longer any open animosity between Madara and her cousin, but there was still always an undercurrent of tension between them that made her assume it was unlikely Madara would notice, or care, about how Tobirama felt.

“I see.”

He rolled his eyes, “Tobirama may be a genius, but most of the time he’s a bigger idiot than his brother.”

Touka absolutely refused to smile, but it was a near thing.

“I want to bring Hashirama home as much as you,” he eyed her sitting in the Hokage chair, “Maybe more.”

Touka glared, the touch of softness she felt for the man vanishing in an instant. Madara laughed. He was such a dick, he always had to ruin a good moment. She crossed her arms with a huff, regretting even stopping him at the door.

“I’m not going to fuck this up,” Madara said, “You don’t have to worry about Tobirama. And, you really don’t have to worry about me. I’ll do my job, you focus on doing yours. Alright?”

“Alright,” she answered.

Touka watched Madara exit, praying that she wouldn’t regret this decision.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara seeks out Tobirama for a conversation before their mission begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me! I'm not abandoning this fic, life is just very difficult a lot of the time and it put me super behind. Better late than never, though.

Konohagakure was a decent-sized village, but there was still only a handful of places where Madara knew he would find Tobirama at any given moment. But, in this situation? There was only one.

He stared at the light coming from Hashirama’s window. It was easy to imagine he’d walk in and get roped into staying for a cup of tea, sitting at the kotatsu and trying not to laugh at whatever ridiculous story Hashirama was relaying…

Madara reminded himself that however he felt, Tobirama was likely feeling a hundred times worse. After all, despite the claims Hashirama made to the contrary, the man wasn’t his brother.

He scaled the building, letting himself in through the window.

Tobirama stood in front of Hashirama’s bookcase. He didn’t bother to turn around at the intrusion, though Madara knew better than to assume it went unnoticed.

“It’s not going to do you any good,” he said, crossing the room to join the other man in front of the shelves. There was no organization system that Madara could decipher, but maybe Tobirama knew something he didn’t.

He poked at an ugly figurine that Hashirama bought from a street vendor on his last mission, sighing when it was apparent that Tobirama wasn’t going to answer.

“If there was anything useful to find here, we would have found it already. The kidnapper didn’t leave a single piece of evidence behind.”

Tobirama snorted, “You think I’m looking for clues about Hashirama’s disappearance?”

The disdainful noise passing the younger Senju’s lips was as much a comfort to Madara as it was an annoyance. It was reassuring to have any semblance of normalcy, it was just too bad that normal for them was constant irritation.

He raised an eyebrow, gesturing for Tobirama to continue.

“I may be arrogant, but I’m not so arrogant to think that I would find an invisible chakra signature where the others couldn’t.”

Madara’s brow furrowed. If asked, he would have said that Tobirama’s arrogance didn’t know _any_ bounds - it’s what they had in common, after all.

“Fine,” he said, “I’ll bite. If you’re not looking for clues, then why do you have your investigative face on?”

Tobirama shifted, mouth turned down as though he didn’t want to answer. It wasn’t a look that he’d seen on Tobirama’s face often. The man loved to give explanations, he relished the chance to demonstrate his thought process. The almost embarrassed expression he wore was enough to put Madara on edge. He fought the urge to reach out, he knew that any acknowledgment of Tobirama’s discomfort wouldn’t be welcome from him.

“I am looking for clues,” Tobirama finally admitted, “Just not for the ones you thought.”

The line between Madara’s brows deepened. He didn’t know what Tobirama was hinting at… He originally assumed he’d find Tobirama at his brother’s place because the man solved all problems by researching every component of the issue until he was an expert. It didn’t help in an instance like this, with no clues or hints to drive the investigation, but Madara figured Tobirama would make the attempt regardless.

“I don’t understand,” he admitted, unhappily.

Tobirama turned away from the shelf, obviously frustrated, “What does it matter? Why are you here?”

There was no way that he could express any genuine concern, and Tobirama wouldn’t believe him even if he did, so Madara opted for a partial lie, “Touka sent me.”

Tobirama laughed, but the sound was hollow, “Of course she did.”

Madara scratched at his nose, the intense emotion and awkwardness of the situation becoming almost too much to bear.

“Look,” he said, “We’re both on the same side here. If you tell me what you’re looking for I could help. It’ll be faster, and easier, with two people.”

It was always the smartest move to appeal to Tobirama’s logical side, and this was no exception. Madara could see the moment Tobirama agreed when his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Fine,” he bit out, “If you must know, I’m researching my brother. Your help would be appreciated, considering you're his best friend.”

Once again, Madara was completely lost.

“I’m completely lost,” he said.

Tobirama buried his face in his hands.

* * *

Madara thought he’d gotten to know Tobirama pretty well throughout the years. They weren’t attached at the hip, of course, but he still felt confident in his ability to read the man by now. This moment, however, had Madara questioning everything he thought he knew about the man.

“Let me get this straight,” he said, “You’re doing research on your _brother_.”

Tobirama huffed, “You make it sound ridiculous.”

“It is ridiculous!” He shot back, shaking his head, “And you think I can help? Because, what, you think that I know Hashirama better than you?”

Tobirama remained silent, eyes averted.

“Tobirama,” Madara said, the response enough to make him pause, “Do you really think that? You’re his _brother_.”

“I’ve never really been...good with people,” Tobirama finally muttered.

“He’s not people,” Madara replied firmly, ignoring the understatement of the year, “He’s your brother. You know him.”

“Maybe,” Tobirama snapped, “But I can’t be him!”

“Is that what this is about?” Madara asked, filled with both relief and exasperation.

“Hashirama’s always…” Tobirama trailed off, “He’s just always been the better brother. He can handle people and he can make someone’s dream come true, but I just can’t. This is our only option and it will never work.”

Madara put his hand on Tobirama’s shoulder, forcing him to make eye contact, “It will be fine. You can do this, and I’m going to be right there,” he grinned in an attempt to ease the tension, “If you’re screwing up I can pick up your slack.”

It worked, Tobirama rolled his eyes but Madara could feel the muscles underneath his hand momentarily relax.

“Besides,” he added, “Toka already told you, most people have never even seen Hashirama. They wouldn’t know difference. But, even if they did, you can do this. You’ve spent nearly every day of your life with your brother, you can fake being him for a week.”

Madara lifted his hand off of Tobirama’s shoulder to poke him in the head, “Plus, you’re a pain-in-the-ass perfectionist.”

Tobirama slapped at his hand, “You’ve made your point.”

“Good,” he replied, “You know I hate to repeat myself. You should get home before it’s too late. We need to set out early tomorrow”

“I know,” Tobirama answered, taking another look around the apartment. Madara knew it would be awhile before the man forced himself to leave, if he did at all. But, he’d done all he could to ease Tobirama’s mind and, unlike his mission partner, he wasn’t keen on setting out on the most important task in his life sleep-deprived.

“Suit yourself,” he said, heading towards the window to make his exit. It always drove Hashirama crazy that he refused to use the door. The thought was bittersweet considering the circumstance, but he reminded himself he could tell him all about it - when they finally brought him home.

“Wait..”

Madara looked back over his shoulder, leg already on the sill.

Tobirama fidgeted for a moment, “Let’s do our best.”

Madara’s eyes widened. He’d understood that they’d never truly be friends, Tobirama didn’t have enough trust in him for that to be possible. He’d accepted that the way he accepted that this was his village now and his closest ties were to clan members he’d sworn to hate. So, he was entirely unprepared for Tobirama to acknowledge him in that way.

The man had managed to catch him by surprise twice. Madara didn’t know to laugh or cry at the irony that the closest thing to honest kindness between them happened in the home of the man who desired it most, and he wasn’t even there to see it. He’d have to continue to reevaluate everything he knew about Tobirama.

Madara didn’t know what an appropriate response would be, so he simply gave a firm nod of agreement and vanished into the night. It was going to be a complicated week.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from (I had thought about this in) March by River City Extension. They're a fun (now-broken up) local band that I steal lyrics from for titles frequently.


End file.
